Unravel
by HI MY NAME IS uncool
Summary: In which Spinelli wears a skirt and everything is shot, quite nicely, to Hell. This is a slash fic, centered around the JaSpin, Jason/Spinelli, Spinelli/Jason pairing. You have been notified.


This is an odd fic. I really didn't plan for it to go in the direction it did, but it serves a purpose all on its own. Like all my other writing, this is a slash fic. Repeat in bold? Okay. **THIS IS A SLASH FIC.** It centers around the JaSpin (Jason/Spinelli) pairing, meaning the two boys are gay together. If that is not your cup of tea, may I suggest another tea house?

I claim no ownership on Damian Spinelli or Jason Morgan. They are property of the creators of General Hospital and all associated content.

**Unravel**

By: Bee

Stone Cold has him pinned to the wall with a stare and Spinelli fidgets. He plays with the hem of his skirt and squints his eyes in obvious discomfort. _Why do I enable Maximista so? It always lands the Jackal in a grand amount of trouble._ He sighs and stares down at the chunky Mary Janes his dear, darling friend picked out. _Oh, fair Maximista, why?_ He bemoans mentally and finally drags his gaze up to meet the stunned silence of his mentor.

"Greetings, Stone Cold," Spinelli manages to stutter. He forces himself to let go of his skirt; he tries to smooth out the swishy fabric the best he can without being too obvious. His hands are shaking and he has to clench them into tight fists. "How was your evening?"

"What are you wearing?" Jason neglects to address his self-proclaimed protégé's question in favor of one of his own. "Wait, never mind," he shakes his head, "I can see what you're wearing. _Why_ are you wearing it?" Spinelli sighs and looks over his outfit. A short-sleeved, white, button-down blouse, a black, floaty skirt ending just above his knees, knee-high black and white striped socks and the aforementioned pair of chunky Mary Janes. All courtesy of the fair (and occasionally devious) Maximista.

"As a favor to the fair Maximista," he answers shyly. "Her intention was to guilt the Jackal into wearing this," and he can't seem to find the words to describe what he's wearing, "to her party. It was only due to the Jackal's admirable negotiation skills that she relented."

"Party," Jason repeats, still staring at Spinelli with an expression of utter disbelief on his face.

"Affirmative," Spinelli confirms and crosses his arms behind his back as he rocks forward on his toes, "the fair Maximista is hosting a costume themed party for her twenty-third birthday. Surely Stone Cold remembers. We both received invitations."

"Oh, no. I remember. I just don't remember where the," and Jason pauses, waving his hand in frustration, "dressing like a girl comes in." Spinelli puffs out his cheeks in a heavy exhale. "I mean, is that what you're into, Spinelli? 'Cause, I'm all right with it... if you are."

"No, no, no." Spinelli takes a step forward and Jason tries to ignore the way the skirt moves around his thighs. "I... The Jackal did not have sufficient funds to procure a birthday gift for his dear friend. One cannot simply download a pair of earrings," he laughs self-deprecatingly. "So, in exchange, he agreed to be Maximista's... dress up doll."

Jason shakes his head again, "Wow, Spinelli. That's, uh. That's something else. Maxie really asked you to dress up like a girl? And," he can't help but look at his knees and the inch or two of leg not covered by socks and skirt, "did you shave your legs?"

"Ah, it was Nair, actually," Spinelli sighs and clears his throat. "Most definitely not a process the Jackal intends to repeat. Maximista insisted that I go through with it, though, as the outfit would not be complete otherwise." It's his turn to shake his head, indirectly sweeping his bangs out of his eyes, as he turns toward the kitchen. "I find myself in dire need of carbonated vitamin C."

Jason follows, trying not to stare at Spinelli's ass as he walks, and accepts the beer that he hands him from the fridge. "You don't look half-bad, you know." He compliments idly as he opens the bottle. "The socks are a bit much, but you look okay." Spinelli makes a skeptical noise in the back of his throat as he hops up onto the counter.

"Flattery will reap you no rewards, Stone Cold," he informs him cheekily as he takes a sip of orange soda. "But, thank you," he tilts his head to grant Jason a small smile before looking back to the drink clutched in his hands. His bangs fall across his forehead, effectively shadowing his green eyes.

He swings his legs idly, fixated on the heavy clunk of the shoes against the wooden cabinet under the counter. He glances up and notices his mentor's steady stare. "Sorry," he mutters and ceases kicking. "These shoes feel like they weigh a ton," Spinelli complains with an empty laugh as he resumes studying his soda bottle.

Very abruptly, something changes and there's a very tangible shift in the air that makes the hair on his arms stand up. He can't help the surprised inhale as Jason is suddenly standing in front of him, inches from slightly parted knees. "Ah, Stone Cold," Spinelli says uselessly with an audible swallow.

"I would recommend," and he nudges his way to stand between Spinelli's legs, "not sitting like this in public. Especially in a skirt." Spinelli freezes, hands still clutching the orange soda, as Jason leans forward and braces his hands on either side of his hips. Very gently, oh-so-softly, he brushes his lips against Spinelli's in a barely there kiss.

When he pulls back, Spinelli can't help himself. "Please tell me that it is more than my salacious skirt that inspired Stone Cold." He blurts and immediately wishes he could retract his half-question. Does it really matter that the only reason Jason is making a move is because he's dressed like a girl and not in his usual baggy attire? Surely they can make a relationship work under those conditions.

"Well," Jason pretends to ponder for a moment. "It certainly helps that you're wearing this," he slides one hand up Spinelli's sinfully smooth thigh, "but no. Your salacious skirt is not the only inspiration for this. It has more to do with what's under it." And really, could he sound any more thoughtful while professing something so sexily dirty?

Spinelli's eyes flutter shut as Jason buries his face in his neck, breath heavy and intimate against the soft skin of his jaw. Biting his lip, Spinelli wraps his arms loosely around his mentor's waist. Shyly, he works his hands under his shirt. Jason groans and takes a hold of Spinelli's hips and, with hands cupping his ass, pulls him closer. Spinelli tips his head back at the friction, wantonly displaying his throat, and digs his nails into the skin of Jason's back.

Jason grins, a wolfish display of teeth, and sucks hard on his neck. The helpless noises spilling from Spinelli's mouth – whimpers, whines, pleas for more, more, more – encourage him and he slides a hand up to tangle in his fine, brown hair. He trails kisses up his throat and along his jawline until, finally, they share their second kiss.

Spinelli is inexperienced, either with kissing someone used to being in control or just kissing in general, but he is blessedly eager. So blessedly eager, as he hums a brittle moan in the back of his throat. Jason cups his face in both hands, and gently traces the subtle dip of his lower lip with his tongue. Spinelli obliges and opens his mouth and, very suddenly it seems, he has his hands braced on Jason's shoulders and his legs wrapped around Jason's waist. He can't help but hook his ankles together behind his back.

Jason supports him with both hands under his ass, as he lifts him from the counter. He carries him out through the kitchen to the living room, where Spinelli is deposited rather unceremoniously on the couch. The landing is awkward, with all limbs akimbo, and his face catches flame instantly in a brilliant blush of red.

He makes a surprised squeaking noise when he notices Jason staring at his widely spread legs and he instantly brings his knees together. Spinelli tugs and adjusts his skirt back into respectability as he scoots back on the couch, suddenly feeling very skittish and exposed. He laughs nervously and rubs at his neck and shoulder awkwardly with one hand.

"You all right there, Spinelli?" Jason asks as he sits down on the couch next to him. Spinelli bobs his head a little as he tries to find the words. "Easy," Jason soothes him, placing an easy hand on his thigh. "It's okay." It's the first time in twenty minutes that he's touched him without intent to seduce.

"All right is such a subjective term, would you not agree, Stone Cold?" He sounds borderline hysterical and he edges further down the couch, away from the man who previously had his tongue in his mouth. "As is okay," he scrubs at his face with his hands. "Jason, I'm dressed like a chick. Is that the only reason why you made a move on me? Because I'm in this outfit?"

"Spinelli, you already asked me that. And I told you, no." Jason sighs, quashing the urge to move closer to his protégé. "I mean, the outfit certainly helped. But, I've always felt..." and he sighs, about to launch himself from the couch to begin pacing.

"Felt what?" Spinelli's voice is quiet, cautious, and his eyes are equally soft as he questions Jason. "Stone Cold?" He prompts when he receives no immediate answer.

"Attracted to you, I guess," he finally admits at length. "And, it all came to head when I saw you in that... crazy outfit." He gestures vaguely with one hand. "I always imagined that... when we got together, if we got together," he amends with a slightly bitter chuckle, "it would be less intense than this. I didn't want to startle you – scare you off."

"Says the man who, through lucky happenstance, just stumbled upon his room mate dressed in an outfit more befitting for a female," Spinelli points out with a laugh. "That must have been terror inspiring."

"Says the man who just crawled away from his room mate, who he had been kissing not thirty seconds ago," Jason counters and buries his face in his hands. "I'm sorry Spinelli," his apology is muffled.

"By what accounts does Stone Cold owe his grasshopper an apology?" Spinelli bites his lip nervously and tucks a piece of hair behind his ear. "The Jackal has not been wounded by Stone Cold's advances." He shifts, moving further down the couch toward Jason. "I am fine," he insists as he settles himself next to his mentor, their thighs almost touching. "Jason," he smooths down the skirt and hunches forward to cups his hands around his bare knees, "I am fine, I assure you."

"I didn't..." He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. Spinelli tilts his head, a tentatively shy smile on his face, and leans back to rest against Jason's shoulder. He wraps an arm around his waist and glances up through the shaggy fringe of his bangs.

"The Jackal finds himself at a loss," he admits in a thoughtful tone, "for he was quite thoroughly enjoying what he and Stone Cold were, ah, doing. But, now, it seems as if Stone Cold regards his actions as ill intended mistakes. Is this an appropriate conclusion?" He's still wearing that little half smile as he raises his eyebrows at Jason.

"No, it... Kissing you wasn't a mistake," Jason explains, rolling his eyes in irritation. "I told you, Spinelli. I've wanted to be with you like that, like this, for a long time."

"Then, please, help the Jackal to identify the problem." He shifts, curling closer around Jason, and moves his head to cuddle more against his chest. "Because I, too, have wanted to be with you, Stone Cold, like that and like this, for a very long time."

"Damn it, Spinelli, don't play coy with me." Jason grinds out between his clenched teeth. "You were scared of me, not five minutes ago. I could see it in your eyes." He gives him a very pointed look when he opens his mouth to protest. "You were scared." Each word is delivered with an air of finality, like its own sentence.

"Not of you," Spinelli is quick to point out. "I was perhaps unsettled by the speed with which we were moving, but it was never you that inspired that fear." He sighs and closes his eyes in embarrassment. "It is no secret that the Jackal is inexperienced in endeavors of the carnal nature, even more so in endeavors of the homoerotic carnal nature."

"I was going too fast," Jason interrupts and simplifies, for both their benefits. "Is that what you're saying?" He turns his head to look down at his red-faced room mate.

"In more words." Spinelli scrunches his nose and starts untangling himself from Jason. "It seems that it is now the Jackal's turn to deliver apologies." He stares down at his lap and fiddles with the hem of his skirt, his face burning bright red. "I'm sorry. I just... don't think I'm ready for that yet." He captures his lower lip between his teeth as he glances at Jason. "I, that is... Not to imply that the Jackal never wishes to, um. Reach that point with Stone Cold. He just finds himself a little overwhelmed, by the sudden onslaught of emotions? N-not to imply, of course, that the Jackal is worthy of any sort of continuous relationship... with Stone Cold and not to imply that, that..."

Jason cuts him off, thankfully, by taking hold of Spinelli's chin and turning his head to kiss him briefly on the mouth. "The Jackal should know that he is more than worthy of a continuous relationship." He murmurs, pressing another kiss on his slightly parted lips. "And, believe it or not, it is possible to have a relationship without having sex." Ducking his head and nuzzling against his neck, Jason gathers Spinelli up in his arms and pulls him into his lap, so that his striped legs are stretched out across the length of the couch.

Spinelli relaxes into the embrace, closing his eyes and resting his head against Jason's chest. He smiles as he feels Jason's curious fingers tracing along the hem of his skirt. "It is a nice outfit. Very fashionable," he admits quietly. "But I must confess I do feel just a tad ridiculous walking around in it." He feels, rather than hears, Jason's noncommittal hum. "Any opinions on the matter?" He asks, idly playing with the collar of Jason's black t-shirt.

"You do make for a pretty girl, Spinelli," Jason replies and combs through his hair.

"Is that so?" Spinelli muses, practically purring under Jason's hand. "Perhaps I should not change, then. Plus, it is rather comfortable where I'm sitting." He sits up a bit and presses a kiss right above Jason's collar bone. "Would you not agree, Stone Cold?" The only response is a distinct tightening of the arms around his waist. He smiles, shifting in Jason's lap to get a better angle, and trails a line of open mouth kisses up his neck. Twisting like that proves to be rather difficult to maintain, so Spinelli moves again, throwing one leg over Jason's thighs. The skirt hikes up a few more dangerous inches as he settles down on his lap.

Jason exhales, a restrained hiss of breath, and slides his hands up the back of his surprisingly tight, white blouse. "Hold on," Spinelli whispers against his neck and leans back a little to start unbuttoning the shirt. Jason watches, transfixed, as his pale chest, with just a hint of muscle, is revealed. Spinelli lets the garment fall to the floor and Jason can't help but run his hands up and down his back.

His skin is so soft, so warm, and Jason just wants to touch every inch of him all at once. He pulls Spinelli closer, so that their chests are flush against each other, and presses a hard kiss against his mouth. Spinelli whimpers, and raises himself up slightly so he can meet Jason step for step, and grabs desperate handfuls of his t-shirt. Jason shifts, rubbing against him in such a way that has Spinelli gasping an utterly new noise and arching his back.

Jason, determined to find out how many little sounds he can force out of him, attaches his mouth to his collar bone, sucking and licking a bright red mark. Spinelli gasps and exhales shakily as he brings his hands up to thread through Jason's hair. His breath catches in an uneven hitch and he slumps forward as Jason bites down on the curve of his neck.

"Ah..." he moans, unconsciously grinding against his mentor. Jason pulls back and swallows loudly. Spinelli stares down at him with his eyes glazed over and face flushed. "Is... Did I do something wrong?" He sounds impossibly small and Jason brushes the hair back from his forehead.

"No, nothing wrong." He takes a moment to gain control of himself, "just... If you keep doing this, I won't be able to stop."

"Doing what?" Spinelli asks, innocently curious and Jason clears his throat with a pointed stare. Spinelli glances down at Jason's lap, and realizes how debauched they must look right now. "Oh."

"Oh indeed." Spinelli's blush darkens and he sits back awkwardly on Jason's lap. "You okay?"

"Yes, fine." He answers dazedly as he shakes his head, as if to clear his muddled thoughts, "I've just never felt... so intense. So caught up in the moment. The Jackal apologizes for losing control of himself, for tempting Stone Cold with-"

"Spinelli," Jason interrupts, pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead, "you didn't do anything wrong. You've made your boundaries clear. I understand." He smiles fondly at his young protégé, "we can stop, if you want." Spinelli licks his lips nervously and looks away. "Do you want to stop?"

"Would it... be permissible to, perhaps, slow down a little?"

"It's okay, Spinelli, to not want to..." He trails off meaningfully and manages to lean forward and snag Spinelli's shirt from the floor. At his prompting, Spinelli holds out his arms and lets Jason redress him. "It's okay," he says again when Spinelli doesn't respond. "We can just watch TV or something." Still nothing. "Spinelli. Look at me."

"The Jackal feels as if he has let Stone Cold down." He sighs and fumbles with the buttons of his shirt. "Though Stone Cold is adamant that the Jackal should not feel it necessary to... go all the way..."

"And you shouldn't. Spinelli, I don't know why you feel obligated to have sex. I'm not pressuring you, am I?" There's a hint of uncertainty in Jason's question, as if he truly believes that he has been unconsciously pressuring Spinelli into bed.

"No, no, not at all. The Jackal just feels as if... if he would not measure up to Stone Cold's previous partners?" His admission comes out more like a rushed question and he turns away, suddenly terrified to meet his mentor's eyes. He curls his arms around himself as he begins climbing off Jason's lap. Jason's hand, like a vice, on his elbow stops him.

"You don't honestly think that, do you?" His voice is hard, much like his stare, and Spinelli feels a trickle of fear run down his spine. This was not how he imagined things going. "Do I really strike you as a guy who judges his _partners_," he uses the word mockingly as he shakes Spinelli's shoulders hard, "by their willingness to go to bed with him?"

"You're hurting me," Spinelli says softly, without a hint of complaint in his voice. "It hurts, Stone Cold." Jason releases him instantly, his eyes wide with disbelief. "I need to call Maxie and tell her we won't be attending her party," he explains in the same dull tone as he climbs off the couch. "I should probably think of a better excuse than a domestic disturbance," he murmurs, almost to himself, as he wanders out of the room.

Jason sits, stunned, on the couch and stares down at absolutely nothing. He can hear Spinelli talking, loudly with forced normalcy, on the phone. He winces with self loathing and wonders how things got so off track. Spinelli fakes a laugh and Jason buries his head in his hands.

Domestic disturbance indeed.

It's hours later, when Spinelli cautiously makes his way down the stairs. He shoves his shaking hands into the deep pockets of his jeans and takes a steadying breath. The penthouse is completely dark, save for the flickering, muted glow of the television. He watches as the changing light plays across his mentor's blank face.

"I hurt you," Jason says suddenly and Spinelli almost jumps. He never was able to lurk on the stairs. Jason's Spinelli sense always countered his impressive stealth. "I hurt you," he repeats, "and that's unforgivable."

Spinelli bites his lip and struggles not to say _it's okay_. Instead, he takes the last few steps down into the living room and stands awkwardly in the middle of the floor. "You did hurt me," he admits and can't help but glance down at his arms, where the bruises stand out vividly just above his elbows. "More than just physically, I'd see it fit to wager."

Jason stares at him, eyes lingering on the dark smudges decorating his arms, before dropping his gaze to glare at the carpet. "I'm sorry, Damian." His voice is barely above a mutter, but Spinelli catches it easily enough in the silence of their home. "I... I am so sorry."

"I wish I could tell you that it was okay," Spinelli crosses the room and sits down on the couch, a good two feet away from Jason. "But it isn't. I was scared of you." Jason flinches, but Spinelli feels compelled to continue. "Even as you seduced me, I wasn't afraid. I trusted you, I trusted you not to hurt me. To be patient." He sighs and traces over the marks on his arm. "I trusted you with my insecurities," he barely whispers as he wraps his arms tightly around himself.

"Oh God." Jason's cry comes out as a strangled sob, "tell me what I can do, Spinelli. Just tell me what to do." Spinelli sighs and shifts closer. He's near enough to touch, but Jason doesn't dare.

"I don't know." He says at length. He isn't being cruel; he doesn't have it in him at this point. He is simply at a loss for words. Jason nods, accepting the terms of forgiveness – there are none – and no further words are exchanged. They sit, side by side but not touching, and watch infomercials without watching infomercials until morning comes.

(end)

All right. Here is something I would like to establish. There will be no sequel to this story. I am not going to continue this story. This is it; this is the end. I have my reasons for this, and as there are many, I will give you the abbreviated version of them. If I were to finish this story with a "and they lived happily ever after" ending, I would be doing a disservice to these characters, and I would be doing a disservice to my readers. Jason has betrayed Spinelli in such a way that is unfixable; Spinelli will never be able to move past the damage that Jason has done to him.

One should be able to trust one's partner, in all aspects of a relationship - romantic or not. Physically and psychologically hurting a loved one is unacceptable and that is not something I will portray in a positive light. If you are in a situation where someone you trust is hurting you, seek help. Remove yourself from that environment. Give yourself the happy ending you deserve.


End file.
